The-Arkadian

The worst of it is that he doesn’t hate Fenris at all, he reflects the next morning - or at least, he presumes it’s morning. It could be the middle of the night, for all they know. He’s lost all sense of time; he has no idea even of the date any more. No, he doesn’t hate Fenris, and that’s what makes all of this all the more painful. He’d dreamed of hearing an endearment from Fenris’ lips; maybe if those slavers hadn’t picked right then to interrupt, he might have heard one before it all went to the Void. Would it have changed what happened after? He suspects not. He knows he was being unfair

Your eyes do yet my dreams haunt, love That gaze which once I held so dear Your voice, melodious, once raised in song Now a ghost's remembrance to my ear. A lover's touch, your warm embrace A strength and comfort in time of need A haven of safety, my one refuge In thought and word, in hope and deed. Your silken hair so long ashes, love And many the years since gone Since you last bid me adieu, my love And last raised your voice in song. Yet still in dreams may you still grace Me with visions of your beloved face.